


Something Good

by KMDWriterGrl



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/KMDWriterGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby helps CJ salvage a disappointing Friday night by taking her out on the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ETraytin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETraytin/gifts).



> -Post-ep for "100,000 Airplanes," very specifically referencing Toby's request that CJ come dance with him after the President's speech. 
> 
> -I don't normally write anything this fluffy but I wrote it several years ago after a disappointing evening of my own; picturing the two of them made me feel better. I've been editing this off and on and have finally come to the point where it's about as good as it's going to get. 
> 
> -The title references the song "Something Good" from "The Sound of Music."
> 
> -Disclaimer: These guys aren't mine and I lay no claim to them ... I'm just playing in Aaron Sorkin's sandbox for awhile. All hail the mighty Sorkin, overlord of all.

“Here you are, standing there, loving me, whether or not you should. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good …” –Something Good, “The Sound of Music.”

***  
CJ stormed into her office, dropped into her chair, and sighed gustily. Her Friday night date had been a wash-out and she was in a horrible mood, but going home was the surest way she knew of to lead to a fit of self-pitying overindulgence. So she came to her office, where she had no intention of working, just of sitting in a familiar place and possibly having a frustrated cry. 

Just once she wanted her dating life to work in her favor. She seemed to make a habit of consistently choosing the wrong men—ones who were talented and driven but focused on all the wrong things or else men who were only too happy to take advantage of her giving nature only to prove that they had no concept of how to give in return. 

“Ugh, I’m going to die old and alone,” she groaned, then inwardly berated herself for making such a melodramatic statement. It felt true, though, at least for this moment, so she let her frustration and anger take over and pounded the top of her desk with her clenched fist before reigning it back in. 

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and spun it around so she could look out the window. The lights of the city outside blurred as a few frustrated tears spilled over her cheeks. 

“CJ?” In the window she caught sight of Toby’s familiar face as he peered around the door frame. “I saw your light…” He stepped inside tentatively. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said with false brightness before deciding not to pretend. “No,” she admitted, palming away a tear. “I feel like a train wreck.”

“What’s the matter?” Toby shut the door behind him and approached her desk. “No one’s dead, are they?”

“Not unless you want to count my chance of ever having a happy relationship as a casualty.”

“Why would I do that?” Toby knew well enough her tendency to pick up in the middle of a train of thought, so he didn’t express his befuddlement at the statement. She’d offer an explanation if he just waited. 

Rather than verbally answer, CJ simply spun the chair around to face him. He whistled softly at her attire; a strapless black dress, dangling emerald teardrop earrings, a dusting of blusher and lightly sparkling powder that shone along her collarbone. “Wow, CJ. Big date?”

“With Todd from the Hill, the one I’d gone out with a few times and was really starting to like.”

“You’re here, so I’m guessing things didn’t go well.”

“He’s too busy for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m busy, too, but he just– his mind is always somewhere else. We’re out to dinner, he’s back at work. We’re in my apartment, he’s in an appropriations hearing. That’s no way to have a relationship.”

“No, it’s not.” Toby studied her quietly. “I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted it to.”

“I’m just– I’m so frustrated! When is it my turn, Toby?”

“For?” Toby hitched his leg up on the side of the desk and sat down, facing CJ.

“A relationship with someone who has time for me. Someone who’s kind. Someone who knows …I don’t know, when I want to slow dance in the living room or something equally as silly and romantic. I want it to be my turn to have someone special.” She impatiently swiped at her cheeks and took a deep breath. “I think I deserve that.”

“Of course you deserve that.” Toby leaned forward and brushed her cheek with his fingers, sluicing away tears. “You absolutely do.”

CJ sighed. “It’s hard to believe I was in such a damn good mood earlier and now– ugh, now I’m a fucking mess. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you … you are just about the last person who should have to listen to me whingeing about man troubles.” 

Toby waved off her last remark. “Forget about it.” He studied her for a moment then said, “You know, you didn’t dance with me.”

“What?”

“You were going to dance with me after the speech … and then you disappeared into your office and the next I hear Sam’s saying something about you and Carol and the couch--”

CJ laughed. “I was being silly. Told him to get on the couch so I could screw him right there. Then I decided to tease him and told him I meant the comment for Carol instead.”

Toby’s eyes flickered to her couch and he grinned. “You were gonna do Sam right there on that couch, huh?”

“I thought about it for a grand total of five seconds. I had sex on the brain today. I thought I’d be in bed with Todd by now.” CJ raised an eyebrow at him. “You know, the hell of it is that he would have been fine taking me to bed--I’m the one who said no. I’m the one who wanted love-making tonight, not fucking.” CJ heaved another gusty sigh. “God, I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Toby chided. “Stop that. You have wishes and desires and, God forbid, actual standards. What’s wrong with that?”

“It doesn’t get you a relationship.”

“Hey.” Toby took her chin in his hands. “Stop. Let’s salvage this night.” 

“How?”

“I’m taking you out on a date.”

“Wha–are you serious?”

“I told you I didn’t get my dance from you earlier. I’m collecting. You’re obligated to have at least two drinks, some dessert, and a dance before you’re allowed to go home.” He looked her up and down, his eyes warm and appreciative, prompting a rush of heat in CJ’s stomach. “You look way too nice to waste a Friday night at home.” 

***

It was still early enough that they could make it to a restaurant, so Toby insisted on taking her out for dessert and drinks. He tossed on a fresh shirt—a pale blue button down, open at the neck, that was her absolute favorite—and even splashed on some cologne before leaving the office. CJ fixed her make-up and, despite a lingering feeling of melancholia, felt ready to face the world again. 

Soon they were ensconced in a booth at the Cheesecake Factory at Chevy Chase Pavilion, watching late evening shoppers come out of the Pottery Barn and Ann Taylor Loft. Toby ordered them both drinks while CJ perused the dessert menu, trying to figure out which decadent concoction suited her mood. 

“Knowing you, I’m guessing it’s going to be chocolate, whatever it is.” Toby gave her a sly smile. 

“You guessed right. I’m wavering between the Chocolate Tuxedo Cream Cheesecake and the Kahlua Cocoa Coffee Cheesecake.”

“That’s disgusting,” Toby said frankly. “That’s a diabetic coma in the making.”

“Good thing I’m not diabetic.” CJ closed her eyes and began “eenie-meanie-miney-moeing” the menu while Toby watched in amusement. 

“I’ll have the apple caramel tart,” Toby told the waitress, “and whatever Death by Chocolate thing she eventually decides on.”

“Chocolate tuxedo cream,” CJ announced. “But with coffee. That way I get chocolate and caffeine.”

“And I get to ferry you around all night on a caffeine buzz,” Toby said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to make me feel better,” CJ replied airily. 

“Is it working?”

“Not sure yet.” CJ sipped the drink the waitress had brought. 

“We’re dancing next. That should erase any lingering doubts.”

CJ laughed. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Are you saying I’m not always this nice to you?”

“You’re not!”

Toby grinned. “You’re right, I’m not. But that’s not because of anything that you’ve done.”

“You think I’ve known you this long and haven’t figured that out yet?”

“There are a lot of things you still haven’t figured out about me,” Toby replied. 

“But back to my question …”

“You’re my best friend. Why shouldn’t I take you out on a Friday night to help you feel better?”

“Not many men would.”

“I’m not most other men.”

CJ smiled, her eyes softening when she looked at Toby. “No, you’re definitely not.”

The dessert arrived and Toby smiled as he watched CJ bliss out on chocolate. 

“What is it with women and chocolate? You don’t see men going this crazy over it.”

“Eating chocolate produces the same endorphins the body does when it orgasms. That’s why women go crazy for it.”

“Are you saying men don’t go crazy for orgasms, too?”

“Not at all,” CJ said thickly, swallowing some whipped cream. “I don’t think it’s the ultimate goal for men, though. Men like the act of sex, certainly, but more than that they like the package that sex comes in– the beautiful woman, the seductive smile, the low-cut clothing--”

“You know, I find that kind of offensive,” Toby cut in, purposely baiting her. 

“Come on, Toby, are you really telling me that when you see a beautiful woman your first thought is ‘gosh, what a stirring and wonderful experience our lovemaking will be’ as opposed to ‘damn, her ass looks great in that dress’?”

Toby gave her a measured look, took a forkful of her cheesecake right off her plate, and chewed thoughtfully. “I guess it would depend on the woman I’m looking at.”

“Say it’s Cindy Crawford.”

“I’m gonna be staring at her ass.”

“Say it’s the Poet Laureate.”

“I’m probably gonna be watching my diction.”

“Say it’s me.”

Toby gave her a quick wink. “Then I’m watching both things.”

***

They left the Cheesecake Factory a short time later and headed down Wisconsin into Friendship Heights. For a Friday night, the Heights was quiet– all the college students had congregated in Georgetown. Toby and CJ walked arm in arm until they found a martini bar with a dance floor. 

“I didn’t know you liked to dance,” CJ commented. 

“Just because I don’t get down to the Jackal doesn’t mean I don’t like to dance.” He found them a table and excused himself to go get drinks.

The dance floor wasn’t exactly pulsing with people. Most of the patrons seemed to prefer to drink and chat rather than dance to the canned music blasting from the formidable stereo system. A few college age women were out on the floor, giggling and dancing, hamming it up. But most were couples her own age dancing close together, looking snug and cozily romantic.

CJ sighed, her good mood starting to fade. It felt like the entire world was paired off. 

“No melancholia,” Toby reprimanded, setting a martini in front of her. “God, I’m gone less than five minutes and you’re all ready depressed. I must be a terrible date.”

“Not at all.” She sipped her drink. “You know, you didn’t have to do this.”

“What, buy you a drink? I did, actually. It would be rude of me to sit here drinking alone.”

“No, take me out. You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. I wanted to. You’re my friend, CJ; why do I need to keep reminding you of that?”

“Sorry, my self-confidence is at a low ebb. It’s hard for me to remember why anyone would want to be around me.”

Toby shook his head in bewilderment. “You’re an intelligent, amazing, funny, sexy woman. Who wouldn’t want to be around you?”

CJ shrugged and sipped her drink. “Ask Todd.”

“Screw Todd, CJ! Screw him!”

“I wanted to,” she quipped, giving him a quick wink.

“You know what I meant. So, he’s not the guy for you. So what? You’ve got other guys clamoring for you.”

CJ looked around the restaurant. “Don’t see any clamoring, Toby. You?”

“Okay, screw this.” Toby set his drink down, rose, and held out a hand to CJ. “Come dance with me.”

“What?”

“Come on. You’re dancing with me. Anything to get you out of this mood.”

“Toby–"

“Claudia Jean, don’t make me force you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Probably not. But humor me anyway.”

Dancing with Toby was the best possible end to a long day and a disappointing evening. He was a good dancer, which she never would have expected, not at all like Josh who tended to grind every party to a screeching halt with his cringe-worthy nerdy white guy moves. Toby danced as if he’d had a lesson or two, smooth, understated. 

“Have you had lessons?” she asked, surprised at how adept he was at leading her. 

“It’s possible.” He was using his “I’ll never ever tell” voice, but there was a hint of humor behind it.

“I’m impressed.” She relaxed into the dance the more she realized she didn’t have to worry about watching her own steps … he wasn’t going to let her trip or fall. 

“I told you there were a few things you didn’t know about me,” he said lightly, pulling her closer. 

“Things you might want to share?”

“Maybe. In time. I like having a few secrets.” One hand rose to the back of her neck and squeezed. “I might not mind sharing them with you, though.”

It felt wonderful to be in his arms; they had never been so physically close. His palms were warm on the small of her back; she found herself idly wondering how those hands would feel elsewhere on her body. 

They left the bar as a second round of clubbers came in, fresh from their forays at the Georgetown bars, and walked hand-in-hand back up Wisconsin toward the White House. They wandered across the National Mall and stopped at the Reflecting Pool, watching the lights from the monuments play across the water. 

“Toby?” she ventured.

“Yeah?”

She had so much she wanted to express that it all bottled in her throat, so finally she settled on “thanks.”

He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “You’re more than welcome.”

They were still and silent for long moments, sharing each other’s warmth and strength. Then: 

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

CJ leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Love you.”

Toby leaned in to capture her lips in a soft kiss. “Love you, too, Claudia Jean.”

END.


End file.
